Forgiven
by Hirondelle
Summary: TifaxSephiroth goodness. Rated M for alcohol use and disappointing sex in chapter 3, but nowhere else. Comments and suggestions encouraged. Thanks everyone for 8000 hits!
1. Chapter 1

I felt my heart skip a beat, or maybe it was five, when I heard the bell ring, signaling a new visitor to the clinic. I was working there as a volunteer, to pass the time while Cloud was away. I put down my magazine on the desk. There were two visitors, actually. One in tatters, his ancient shirt reeking of sweat and life on the streets, his feet bare and scarred. He held his head low, and mumbled continuously. I couldn't tell if it was anything specific, but from so far away it sounded like the wretch drifted between groans and snatches of semi-coherent speech. The other though, he was different. So marvelously different. He towered over the companion slumped against him, his clean cut brown hair flowing back from his forehead like feathers. He was tall physically but also in presence, that was one of the things that hit me most.

"Miss…Lockheart." I noticed him pause as he read my nametag, but even so something struck me as though he had known it all along. "I was wondering if you would be able to admit this man to the clinic. He has Mako poisoning."

Mako poisoning. The thought sent a cringe jolting through me. I remembered clearly the damage it could do to a loved one, and how close I myself came to the illness when I fell in the Lifestream. The wretch in front of me had a moderate case, I could see that much even though Mako poisoning had become rare over the years. Cloud, when he was poisoned, could not stand, nor could he form half a sentence.

"I'm sorry sir, but I'll need to ask the doctor. I'm just a volunteer, filing paperwork."

A blush crossed my face, realizing I just made a barefaced lie. I had finished my work over an hour ago and was reading magazines while I waited for my shift to end. Though I saw scores of the sick and the mad in the streets, few admitted themselves and fewer still forced others to reconcile their problems. Perhaps it was the Midgarian pride that ran through all of them. On the other hand, maybe they were too busy trying to reach the stars to notice those that fell and rotted at the roots. Either way, the lack of patients led to lack of work for me.

I picked up the phone and dialed the doctor's number, my idle feet clicking against the tile as I swung them back and forth.

"Doctor Godel, please come to the front desk." I said, hearing my own voice echo distorted over the PA system. This place was so empty. I set down the phone and entwined my fingers nervously. "You can set him in a chair until Doctor Godel arrives." I told the tall stranger.

He did so without comment, then returned to my desk. I felt hot all over; the way that he was looking at me confounded my thoughts until they tumbled over each other and disappeared into muteness. It wasn't a leer, nor a doleful gaze. I only saw an intense interest tempered by age and wisdom. The age and wisdom of hundreds of years, maybe as old as the Planet itself. He blinked once and the cast was gone. I saw only eyes on his face, human eyes and nothing more.

"So… um, what's your name?" I asked, if only to break the silence

"You may call me Theodore, or Theo if that's more to your taste."

Theo. The name rolled around in my mouth and came out sweetly, much in the same way Cloud's name did. It had a softness to it, maybe from the relative lack of plosives, but the full three syllables of "Theodore" sounded regal. Of course, no common name could match the mystique of "Cloud". I caught myself at a brink and reminded myself that I had found my soul mate already, and there can be only one.

"And your name?"

"Tifa."

"Do you volunteer here often?"

"Yes, as often as I can. Mostly Wednesdays though. Do you volunteer a lot?" I struggled to find something to say, my conversation skills rusty from several years of disuse. I only realized it then.

"No. As a rule, I am too busy to take myself away for any extended period of time."

"Really, what do you do?"

"I teach the finer points of swordplay. I do not have many students, but the ones I do have are eager."

I smiled, remembering my old teacher Zangan. Was this Theodore a man after my own heart? Doctor Godel came and went, but I was too absorbed to remember that I needed to give him a memo. Theo left too quickly, but not before asking my number. I gave it willingly, but felt that it would never lead to anything.


	2. Chapter 2

The next week proved me wrong, wonderfully wrong. Theo called me late one morning, and by early afternoon I was out the door. I did not return until well after midnight, but Cloud did not notice at all. He was on another delivery errand, this one to the Chocobo Ranch, though I bet that he stopped by the church at least once. My face was sore, not from unwanted attentions, but from smiling. Theo never joked, but there was something about his kindness that I found delightful. It was also wonderful to finally find some man other than Cloud reasonable enough to see I was more than just a rack and long legs. We met several more times over the following month.

I was bringing groceries home one day, when a girl darted out of Theo's house so blindly she knocked over one of my bags. Boxes of dried food spilled onto the badly paved sidewalk. My heart fluttered. I had changed my route so I would pass by Theo's house; it added a few extra steps but a little extra satisfaction, that I could say, "That's my friend's house."

"Are you okay?" Theo stood in his doorway

"Oh, I'm fine." I threw the boxes back into my bag

"I must apologize for Ishtar."

"Is she the student you keep talking about?"

"Yes. I hope you are not too much in a hurry. Would you like to stop in?"

I looked back and forth, just to assure myself that Cloud was not around, then nodded. I was only coming in as a friend, as I had so many times before.

His house had not changed since the last time I saw it, though that was only a week ago. Sparsely furnished, there were still a few attractions. There was his fireplace and the display case above it. The case contained the shattered remains of a sword. I could never figure out which blade it was. There was no placard, and many pieces were missing. Even the handle did not belong. Theo told me once that he purchased it from another collector, but much was lost in shipping.

I recognized as well the door to a spare room he converted to a practice room. Ishtar's name hung on a peg near the door next to some others. I had yet to set foot in the practice room, but I didn't care. I knew so much more very well. After setting my groceries by the door, I sat down on Theo's couch. The movie we watched the other day, _Loveless_, still lay on the coffee table. It was my idea to watch it, not his, but Theo had to admit at the end that _Loveless_ was an enjoyable movie.

"I do not have any drinks ready. I hope you do not mind going without." Theo sat next to me.

"I don't mind. Hey, I've heard a lot of Ishtar, but what made her want to be your student?"

"Revenge."

"That's pretty dark. Did she ever say against who?"

"I doubt she knows specifically. Her father was a guard at the Shinra building. He was killed at work one day, stabbed in the back. They never caught the murderer, but she has been through a lot just for a chance to get vengeance, once she sees him."

"That's so admirable. Does she know what he looks like?"

"Spiky light-colored hair, well built… She knew little more. The security tapes were vague."

I was suddenly thankful that I hadn't had anything to drink. I would have choked.

"Sorry to hear that…" I said

"On another subject, how is the clinic going?"

"Oh, the clinic. Yes. Well-" I talked on, grateful for a change of subject. As we chatted, I felt something like a glow in my heart. I told myself we were only friends, we should only be friends, but…

I sidled over closer to Theo. His wonderful earthy smell, the salty scent of earth, became enlivened to me. My heart beat rapidly in my chest as I sent my hand quivering over to his. It felt strange, knowing that perhaps now, for the first time since I met Theo, I would hold his hand. A mere glance at what was happening and Theo withdrew.

"Theo, do you like me?" I asked

"I care for you."

I leaned over to him, close to his face. "Then…"

Though I was already to kiss him, he pushed me back gently. I saw none of the offense I expected in his eyes. What I saw, I could not name, but perhaps it was regret?"Why won't you kiss me?" I asked. My cheek, my lips, my entire body longed for him.

"There is something I must tell you first."

"You won't even hold my hand…"

"I am not who you believe me to be."

"No one is. What's holding you back?"

"Tifa. Listen."

He grabbed my wrist. I gasped, bewildered, but everything in me drained when my eyes met his. He had that look again, the semblance of ageless wisdom. I gaped like a fish for a while, then realized that I had nothing to say. An empty fear slithered into a corner of my mind. It had the icy taste of oblivion, though I could not name what the fear was.

"I am not who you think I am, but please, try to not let that change your opinion of me."

"I can't imagine doing otherwise."

Theo shook his head slowly, "Do not scream."

Theo melted before my eyes. I lost his brown hair to a current of moonbeams; his tanned skin wanned to nearly ivory-white. The shape of the eyes stayed, though the cleft of his chin and the hook of his nose fled. His eyes, those eyes that pierced me with knowledge, burned off their blue and left me staring into green flames that filled me with terror.

Every fiber in my body wanted to scream, but I was too frightened to. My mind, it knew, though.

Sephiroth.


	3. Chapter 3

He wore Theo's clothes, he sat in Theo's chair, but with the spell gone, Theo had left also. The stern horizon of his lips bent slightly with sorrow.

"I see I can trust you only partially."

"How dare you!" I shuddered. My words came out bodiless, more a breath than a voice, "You killed Papa."

"And your hands have the blood of Mother and Hojo on them. Just-"

"You're insane, a murderer! You ask me to not care, knowing that? Why are you even here!?"

"Forgiveness."

"Then go and start a pity party with Cloud."

"No. I thought that if I would need forgiveness from anyone, I would need it from you. If I could get it from anyone, it would be you alone."

"Why me? Ask Aerith. She's the only one anyone asks for anything."

"I have already been refused."

I said nothing.

"Tifa, I have gone five years of madness, trapped in Mako. I heard nothing but screams from the Planet, and I was too weak to stop what was happening. I spent three years trying to pick up the pieces of what I had left and reforge myself. I lied to you only about my name and appearance, and I am sorry for that, but everything else, every word I have told you, I swear is genuine."

"That doesn't wipe out what you did. I won't forgive a murderer."

"You won't forgive _me_. I know every step Cloud has taken for five years. I saw him blow up a reactor for a few hundred Gil. I saw him start a thousand fights. All while sane, and never once was it all for anything more than himself."

"He did it for the Planet."

"He did it for a trollop in a pink dress."

His last words stung me, moved me not by reason but by emotion. I knew that it was a move calculated to do that. Yet, even after the initial feeling had past, a ghost of me wanted to believe him.

"I don't think I can. It's too huge."

"You can leave, Tifa. I do not ask you to forget; only to forgive. Take whatever time you want to decide. You can step out the door and never see me again, and I will understand. You can come back in a week, a year, a decade, and I will also understand."

I left without even a goodbye. My head was a mess. I was lost among thoughts of what had happened, what I had done, what he had done, what I would do. I promptly returned home.

I did not have to wait for the next week. The next week found me. I was too plastered to find it. I seldom drank, but something possessed me to take whatever I could find and drown myself in it. My memory drowned as well among the empty bottles of alcohol and crusted vomit I had no desire to clean up. I had no idea how much time had passed, nor could I tell if Cloud had come home and left again while I was passed out on the floor. A doorbell rang, somewhere. I staggered to the door, wincing at the chipper sound.

"Euh?" I greeted five Yuffies.

"I was just checking- Omigod! You look terrible!"

She busied herself taking care of whatever little things she could while I cowered from light and sound on the couch. If I had been the least bit clearheaded I might have noticed how mature she had become. Yuffie, the materia thief that had always gone with her fly unbuttoned, had given way to a confidant woman as capable of taking care of herself as she was of others. She did not even utter a word of complaint.

"What got into you? I've never seen you like this." Yuffie repeated those words several times in various forms while I waited for my hangover to ease.

"I saw someone the other day. He asked me a question, and I didn't know how to deal with it." I answered at last.

"All that for a question? What was it?"

"I'd rather not say."

We didn't talk much more after that. Yuffie left with little fanfare, and I had all the house to myself. I still had a quarter bottle of whiskey left, but the stuff no longer held any attraction to me. Not while I still remembered, or rather, couldn't remember my entire wasted week. I cradled the bottle in my hands like a loathsome child. What would I do?

I had so many reasons not to forgive Sephiroth. He killed my father, destroyed my hometown, slaughtered many and threatened to destroy the world. If the Planet could not forgive him, I would definitely be unable to find the power. And yet… he seemed so sincere. He was a monster of illusion, but I had no doubt in my mind that there was at least a small chance that what he said might be true. Cloud was, I was, not as pure as we all wanted to be. I wrestled back and forth, favoring the idea of no forgiveness more. The comparisons were false, tricks with words to manipulate me, separate me from Cloud. He would drive us all apart in revenge.

The creak of the door registered in my mind, and the slam of the door jolted me from my reverie. Cloud was home.

"How was your trip?" I asked, trying to put the turmoil of the day behind me. Cloud was home. Cloud was by my side. Nothing else… mattered.

"Fine. No dinner?"

"It's only four o'clock."

"Yeah. Well maybe I'd care if I hadn't been riding a Chocobo home from Kalm since dawn.

I made a small dinner, one of pasta with a little white sauce. It was the best I could do on short notice. Cloud ate most of it, but I didn't mind. I made it for him. I wasn't hungry, even if my stomach growled a little. No words came between us as the small mounds of pasty, ignoble food dwindled and disappeared. I watched Cloud eat, leaving even my glass of water unattended to. Pasta disappeared by the shovelful down his terse gullet, letting neither a single bowtie nor a small drop of sauce to fall aside. His eyes looked with hunger at the plate, but never at me. I rubbed my wedding ring with the thumb of my left hand. When we married, I thought I knew all of him I could ever want, and as the years passed, I learned only more. I wondered if Cloud had felt the same.

Dinner finished and I washed the dishes. There was hardly enough to make the effort count. The endless drone of news came from the television screen in the background. Nothing new. The same hopeful yet trite words about the future of Midgar, the same dour warnings about crime in the street. Everything was always getting better, but the worst was getting worse. I felt lost in time when I joined Cloud on the couch. This was not the night at the well, though I wanted it to be. The flickering images of the television screen could never be the stars. The lamps could never rival the sun or the moon. Cloud's arm around my shoulders, it felt warm and heavy but still as distant as the night at the well was now. Like it had never been for me; only a fancy in someone else's dream. I shook the thoughts from my head during a commercial. I had now what I had wanted since before I was sixteen. Before then, everything seemed just as dreamlike.

We retired to bed early. He caressed my cheek as we lay in bed, though he still said nothing. With a smile I could barely make out in the blackness of our bedroom he slipped off what little I wore. I shifted, ready to receive him, but my heart was strangely absent. I could feel the pressure of his lips on my breast, the sweat of his fading muscles, the rhythmic pounding of his body against mine. I realized with a cold sweat along my naked back that it hurt. It hurt. I had yearned for so many years that there would be only Cloud and I, together forever, and everything about it hurt. The senselessness of it all, the wordlessness, the heartlessness, it had all seeped into a sham marriage. Maybe it had always been there to begin with. Or maybe I was just in the wrong place.

"Aerith!" Cloud grunted, spent.

My cheeks burned with the onset of tears. Was that all I was to him? A surrogate for a dead girl? Brine coursed down my chin and onto the pillow, leaving an itch in its wake. Even after the tears were forced back to my eyes and drowned in pillows and blankets, I had only one thought that kept me awake for a long time. I would not be equal to her. Nor would I be Cloud's any longer.

"I saw something in you, once." I said to Cloud, though I knew he was already asleep, "I don't know what it was, but I'm through pretending it's still there."

Author's Note: If you got this far, you probably realized, "Hey, that was a very disappointing sex scene!". My point was not to have some kind of steamy scene, but more to have Tifa realize that, despite all her denial, she does not have any physical or psychological attraction of any kind for Cloud anymore; she feels neither passionate nor compassionate love from him. I guess there could be a mroe effective way to show that, but I stuck with this. Also, maybe this chapter doesn't warrant an "M" rating, but I wanted to err on the safe side.


	4. Chapter 4

I woke up much less willing to follow through with the plans of last night. Cloud had already left before I awoke; the wrinkles in the sheets were not even warm anymore. I sat up in bed, groped for the nightclothes I abandoned the night before, and dressed before getting up to my feet. The ghost of last night's pain still lingered, and I felt more lost but more found than ever. I just needed one more nail in the coffin. One more piece of advice to solve my fate, a fate I still thought was too large for me alone.

Though it took me four days to do so, I found Vincent. I thought that, he being the eldest of my friends and the one most in tune with judgment, he could answer whatever questions I had.

We met in the shadows of the Shinra building ruins. I had wanted a place as private as possible, and though reconstruction had spread through many of the sectors, the Shinra building remained and untouched jumble of twisted metal and broken concrete. We met where a pavilion once was. Vincent hunched over on a plateau of broken concrete awaiting my belated arrival.

"You had trouble?" he noted. The metal of his left arm glinted in the sun that made in through the tattered remains of the plate above us.

"Well, it's not like I could hear or see you easily." I frowned and dusted off my skirt. The road to the building had disappeared long ago, and I had to do more climbing than I had in a while.

"What do you want to know?" Vincent asked. His long, rather greasy black hair fluttered slightly in the breeze, though the tatters of his scarlet cape were too heavy to move.

"Well, say for instance," I sat on an accessible edge of the same concrete ridge Vincent occupied, careful to avoid fallen metal and glass, "say that there was someone who no one in the world would accept, and you were uncertain. What would you do?"

"… That depends why no one would accept him."

"Say he did something horrible."

"If it was truly awful, then I would have nothing to do with your 'someone'. However, if the action seemed understandable, or if he truly repentant, I would be the better man."

"Thanks." I jumped down, ready to leave. I felt slightly embarrassed for wasting his time with only one question.

"Who is he? The you want to accept?"

"I never said I wanted to accept him."

"You never wanted to throw him away. I can see it in your eyes. Who is he? A Turk? Rufus?"

"Se-" I clapped my hands over my mouth, realizing my slip of the tongue.

"No." Vincent leapt down. He looked into my eyes with a look of intensity I rarely seen before. I felt powerless to move away. The sun shone, but I felt enveloped in darkness

"No." He repeated, "If you do that you will damn yourself. You will be an enemy of the Planet; it will withhold everything it can from you until as barren as the soil of Midgar. It will mark you and hunt you down with whatever it can."

"I don't care if-"

"If it means love? He's a monster, Tifa. What guarantee do you have that he's not using you? You're gambling your entire life on a total uncertainty. You'll throw away all that you have?"

"Then I have a free chance. What do I have anymore?"

"Your friends. Yuffie, Barrett, Cid, I… everyone."

I closed my eyes and turned away. My breast felt hot, but my hands were cold.

"If you are any friends of mine," I said slowly, "You will be there for who I am, not what I do."

I forced my head high. My mind had been made up, it seemed, a long time ago. Gravel crunched under my shoes as I retraced my steps back home. Over the noise I could barely make out what Vincent was saying to me.

"I will not fight you, but I will be there, though I cannot approve."

Something in his voice sounded sad, but I continued on. There would be no turning back now. I wandered my way back through the rubble, trying to find a main road again. Gradually, more and more grass poked through the pavement, even flowers in places. By the time I had reached the main road, even trees had started growing, though few were taller than my hips. Was this what I was leaving behind? Life itself? I shook my head. It didn't matter what the Planet would think, nor what it would do. I was my own person, free to pick whatever future I chose. I rubbed the gold ring on my finger.

The city came sooner than I expected. Dust covered my clothes, and though I felt out of place, it was easy to ignore it. Everyone else was just as caked with the grime that came from living in a construction zone, from soot falling out of chimneys to sludge kicked up by tires. More smoke passed from the roofs of stores and housed into the sky like flocks of crows. Life without Mako- it might have cleansed our consciences, but I had never seen hazier dawns or murkier sunsets. Yet, there was a certain beauty to it, especially when the sun in the dusty clouds just right.

I walked quickly past Cloud's house – I didn't want to call it my house any more- and up to Sephiroth's home. I rang the door bell, once, twice. My head spun. Maybe he wasn't home. I would have to find somewhere to stay. I would have to stay awake lest sleep would once again let me change my mind. Thankfully, I managed to see a ghost of movement behind his drawn curtains. The door opened soon after.

"I'm surprised to see you again." Sephiroth said. He was once again in the guise of Theo.

"I've made a decision."

"Yes?"

"I decided that I cannot forget anything, but I will forgive."

I embraced him, knowing that now, there was almost no one else to embrace.

He held my hand, and kissed me with a shy passion I had been waiting sixteen years to feel.

It was a passion for me.


	5. Chapter 5

"I can't believe how far she's made it." I commented, raising my voice a bit to be heard over the clamor of a gymnasium. A few years had passed, as barren as Vincent had foretold, but I was still happy. Ishtar, who had always spent more time training at Sephiroth's house- my new home- than her own became like both a daughter and a sister to me. It was a small comfort, though I had always wanted a child of my own.

"Indeed." He, in the guise of Theo, wrapped his arm around my waist. If I must admit, I had misgivings for at least a month. I still didn't know whose arms I had walked into. Thankfully, I had been lucky. The Sephiroth who desired death and destruction was nothing more than a nightmare that haunted the man I loved in his dreams from time to time. The one that held me had little taste for even petty vengeance. He was the person I had met when I was still a girl, a strong commander who nonetheless betrayed, at times, a strange shyness and appreciation of beauty.

The crowd around us erupted in a flurry of applause. At the center of the gymnasium, one of two fighters had fallen. One, a boy, was stunned by a disarming blow from a sword. The other, a girl, was Ishtar. She had battled her way through a worldwide tournament, and now, with this opponent down, she had one more until she was officially the best warrior on the Planet. Unofficially, though, it was likely that she would never be. I knew that my fists were superior to her blade, and she had much to learn from Sephiroth. There may have been countless others, but they were either too busy or unwilling to participate.

With a formal bow, Ishtar exited the ring. She went straight to us, not far at all since, as her coaches, we were entitled to ringside seats. Her face was covered in sweat, but I felt that it was more from the lights than from the combat. Her eyes were bright with the excitement of victory.

"Did you see, Mr. Frost?" She panted.

"Yes. You let your form falter."

"Sorry. I was getting lax. It won't happen again." Ishtar picked up a bottle of water and drank deeply.

"You are up next against Bryn Warner, a black mage. He's been using firaga recently, but I expect him to change his tactics for this battle. Also-"

His advice was all that I would have said and more. I was not a former SOLDIER commander. My eyes wandered across the gymnasium. I knew precious few people here, but one managed to catch my eyes no matter how many times I wanted to look away. Cloud. We hadn't talked at all since the divorce was finalized, though before then we spoke little. I suspected he came for the show, or maybe just to see Ishtar fail. A rather dumpy brunette hung obsessively on his shoulders. Since our divorce, he hadn't faired better at replacing his dead girlfriend. Briefly, our eyes met, sending bolts of distaste coursing through the air.

I looked back to Sephiroth, forcing outwards a smile I had felt within. I doubted that Cloud even guessed. At most, he might have felt uneasy, but he was so insular. In addition, no one but me had seen the gleam of Mako in his eyes in years, nor even a single silver strand on his head. His illusions were strong, and no material could dispel them. I had to admit I felt like I lived a fairytale. We loved each other deeply, but from dawn until dusk, he was Theodore Frost. I only saw him for himself at night, in the safety of our house.

The minutes passed quickly. Ishtar returned to the ring, flexing her fingers as she stretched once more before the battle began. Her opponent, Bryn, rolled his shoulders opposite her. I had seen him fight. He seemed to work more on raw magical power than evasiveness or finesse, and so far that had brought him far. He had frightening power, but I felt confidant in Ishtar. Spells took time, even for such a strong black mage, and Ishtar has speed on her side.

I was so focused, I missed the starting bell. Before I could blink, Bryn was almost finished readying his spell. The air crackled and the lights flickered. Green sparks jumped and writhed around the green material on his bangle. I suddenly knew the spell. I had used it once, before I lost interest in combat. Ultima. Even if Ishtar had a Reflect material, it wouldn't work. By the time the light of the magic had encompassed Bryn's arms, Ishtar had darted within easy slashing distance of his chest. Her sword flicked outward and retracted with so much speed, I doubted many could have seen the move. The room grew silent; I could hear clearly the sound of cracking metal.


	6. Chapter 6

I clutched Sephiroth's hand. Something had broken, but I didn't know yet if it was Ishtar's sword or Bryn's bangle. He squeezed me back with a light, confidant pressure. Almost in slow motion, the sound of three orbs hitting the mat resounded through the gymnasium. The gathering magic of Ultima dissipated. The two finalists paused for a moment, the tang of Ishtar's sword hovering an inch from Bryn's throat. There was no cruelty in her eyes, only sternness.

"I forfeit." Bryn announced unceremoniously. He was a mage without his magic, but still a man with a will to live.

The two exchanged formal bows as the gymnasium erupted in applause around them. Even Sephiroth was moved enough to let slip a small smile of pride as he clapped his hands together softly. Ishtar moved to the center of the ring and bowed once more, to the audience this time. She made a motion to end the applause.

"Th-thank you." She called out loud. Her cheeks were burning, but she continued, "But, I would like one thing before I can truly call this the best moment of my life. Several years ago, my father was murdered, stabbed in the back before he could even see who attacked him. I have trained and searched just so I can return the favor in my father's stead. Cloud Strife, I want to challenge you!"

I could have expected it. I could have known that Ishtar knew. I could see the fire in her blue eyes, glaring not with Mako but with a strange mix of joy and hatred. Murmurs spread through the audience like a wave, but I could find nothing to say. Sephiroth shifted uneasily. He had known she was serious, but not so serious as to take her fight into the public eye.

Cloud stood up, ready to accept the challenge. Leaving his new girlfriend behind, he strode up to the ring wordlessly, oversized sword in hand. I found myself wondering if he understood all of what he was saying through his actions, but as I wondered I missed Ishtar grappling with Cloud until she held him almost powerless, the edge of her sword held against his neck like she was some sinister barber.

Murmurs continued to travel through the gymnasium, each touched with a note of confusion and fear. A young girl challenging a hero? The assault was baseless. Yet others agreed with Ishtar. Some had brothers in the army, others had parents or children who lived and died in sector seven. Most were conflicted, not knowing if they should side with the man who saved the Planet or the girl who, like them, had suffered at his hands.

Ishtar whispered something into Cloud's ear, but too softly for me to hear.

"Ishtar, halt!" Sephiroth barked, standing up quickly.

The hall went silent. It took me a while to finally realize why. In the stress of the moment, his illusion had slipped- not partially, entirely.

"Not good." I moaned, though I regretted a second later that could find no better words.

"My god!" A voice came from the audience.

Even Ishtar, lost in revenge, managed to look up. Her expression was one of surprise, but not shock. Her hold loosened on Cloud, who also joined the rest of the gymnasium in staring at someone they thought was long dead. The heat of over a thousand people's eyes staring at Sephiroth seemed to overpower the heat of the lights above us and bodies sweltering in their clothes. I suddenly felt invisible. Looking up for guidance, to see what, if anything, I should do or say, I only saw the harsh yellow glow of the lights surrounding Sephiroth's head like a flame. His face was impassive.

"Why won't you die?" Cloud hissed. Ishtar looked down at him briefly, and then retightened her grip around his neck.

"Why not?"

"You are vile. Evil. You're insane and a murderer!"

"That's for you to decide?"

"It's what the Planet decided."

I recoiled, though Sephiroth did not. Did the Planet, by my association with Sephiroth, think the same thing of me? That I was a vile murderer, guilty by association, and therefore undeserving of a child or the feel of rain on my face?

"'What the Planet decided.' You would blindly follow that? You would follow a mass of earth just as easily as you would Shinra? A SOLDIER commander? A hunch? And what would you do if the Planet was wrong-?"

"The Planet is never wrong."

"Then I suppose I was never wrong. You were never wrong. Everything is set in stone by fate as if it were already past, and none of us have any choice in the matter. What a wonderful way to clear yourself of blame, Cloud. The Planet is right. Do what the Planet says. What does it matter," Sephiroth shrugged, "if a man can decide he was at fault and tries his hardest to reform, because if the Planet decides he cannot change, nothing will change."

"Whatever. Look at you. You're alone. And now you're going to be dead like you should be."

Cloud moved suddenly, breaking Ishtar's hold with a strength he had not summoned in a while. He ran with blinding speed towards Sephiroth, energy flowing in almost tangible light from his blade. My body reacted before my mind could even register that Cloud was about to release Omnislash.


	7. Chapter 7

If I had been more than a volunteer at the clinic, I might have understood better why I felt no pain. I might have understood why I was able to look at several inches of hardened steel sticking into my side and only know that I should have felt pain. I looked at Cloud with the same numbness.

"Not alone. He's not alone." I said, lifting my arms protectively. Awareness crept into my mind by degrees. Everyone stared at me. Blood flowed from just below my left breast and pooled at my feet.

"Tifa…" Sephiroth and Cloud said simultaneously. Cloud's sword slipped out of my side, sending an inferno of pain through my entire torso. I was no stranger to pain, but I gasped. I had fallen off mountain tops, been stabbed, almost executed, and attacked by countless wild beats, but this felt so different. The brittle, uncared for steel of Cloud's sword left me feeling like I had been stabbed with a spoon rather than a scalpel.

"It's my choice. I want to know a future, not just my past. I want… to live."

Vertigo enveloped me quickly as my vision dimmed and turned black. The last thing I could remember thinking was, this must be death.

It wasn't death, in the end. Only one of my many close scrapes. I awoke with pain in my side from the wound, and tightness in my chest from too many bandages. The sun filtered through a window, leaving a shadow from a vase of yellow flowers. I turned my head and noticed a soft linen pillowcase, and Sephiroth sitting beyond it. I had to recognize him by his eyes, since he had changed his face and clothes into a stranger's. Relief marked his face as he noticed my eyes open.

"Seems to happen a lot…" I said weakly.

"It could be worse."

"Your hands…" I had meant to ask how long I was out for, but I glimpse of Sephiroth's hands stopped me. They were bandaged around the knuckles. Over the time I had spent with him, I knew what it meant. "You shouldn't scrub so hard."

"…Only a habit."

"It's a bad one. What if you catch an infection? There has to be a better way to deal with guilt."

"I might not feel so guilty if I did not have to owe you for saving my life."

"You could've fought back."

"I had decided not to. It would not help anything. Please, change the subject."

"Okay." I shifted myself into a sitting position, ignoring the pain in my side. "What happened when I blacked out?"

"In brief, panic. Most seemed ready to give you up for dead, and were split between blaming your death on Cloud for stabbing you or blaming me for being the intended target. I took you to the clinic, here, when my magic could do no more. Dr. Godel did an admirable job, better than some other professed men of science and medicine. Compassionate as well- he let me stay, disguised as a nurse, even knowing who I was. I believe it was more for your sake than for mine."

"You only missed a day. Your friends came in several times. Cloud was the one who brought those flowers. Vincent brought roses, Barrett –the fool- brought lilies, Yuffie donated a Master Summon materia, and Cid seemed to think you would like a pack of cigarettes. I forget what else came, but Godel ordered most of it out after it cluttered the room."

I smiled. They were my friends, even if I had found a strange alliance. Even simple gifts like flowers were more than I could have hoped for.

"Cloud is hunting for me." Sephiroth added wearily, disturbing my calm, "He will not stop until I am dead, and more are joining his cause. However, it seems a small minority are sympathizing with me… with us."

An explosion went off not too far away, shattering the sunlight as gravel flecked against the window. My face paled as I was able to draw my own conclusion.

"A war?"

"Yes. I have not even taken part yet, and it has started to spread. As soon as I can I want to move."

"To where?" I was as ready to pull of up stakes as him. I did not want to live in a place tormented by violence.

"I do not know. If I move, the battle will fester and eventually follow. I doubt it will stop unless the vocal minority of each faction perishes. But even then… the only way I can think of is if I can convince the Planet to forgive, or at least partially forgive. If the world can see that, there should be less of a problem."

"Uh-huh. No matter what, I'll follow." I leaned forward, straining my wound, but the reward of a kiss overcame the pain. It was not like our first kiss. Since we met, I had taught him things I had learned in almost thirty years that he had not in forty. The sweetness of skill overcame that of innocence and mixed with love to become like ambrosia.

I wanted more than just a kiss, but we were interrupted by a voice I knew well.

"Mr. Nurse!"

Sephiroth plumped his face and turned his eyes brown, just in time to turn around and see Ishtar.

"Yes?"

"I- oh, Tifa, you're awake." Ishtar added in a whisper, "Cloud's been hanging around the clinic. I think he suspects something. I don't have much more news…but can I please call you Mr. Frost? Nothing else sounds right."

"No. I suppose I must move then. Thank you Ishtar."

"You aren't going to kill him?" I interrupted. I was surprised that the same Ishtar who trained day and night for the purpose of revenge would let her enemy go by so easily.

"No. I decided that if Mr. Frost can let him live, then I will too, even if he won't tell me why."

Ishtar left soon after, followed by Sephiroth after the sunset. I missed him as soon as soon as his shadow disappeared behind the doorframe. I had never realized how lonely the clinic was when I had nothing to do and no one to talk to. I slipped off to sleep despite the endless barrages in the distance, thankful for the protective white walls of the clinic. My dreams were haunted by burning buildings.


	8. Chapter 8

The wound in my side had healed up by the end of the week, almost entirely due to the care of Dr. Godel. The violence continued to rise in Midgar, until it was unsafe to walk in the streets for fear of the Guardians. Guardians- that was the name that those who sided with Cloud chose for their group. They aimed to protect the Planet, protect justice, protect themselves, protect everything they loved with the use of intimidation and violence. I didn't know how much Cloud himself was part of the movement, but I still found myself vocally opposed to its methods. Like many, I knew the decision was a time bomb over my head.

I sat in a bar, ready for an informal meeting. It felt like I was once again in the days of AVALANCHE, though neither Barret nor Cloud were here. Jesse, Biggs, and Wedge were all long dead. At least a score of other people were at the bar though. I recognized only a few. Ishtar I knew sat at the same table, pen and paper in hand. She would be recording the words and decisions of the evening. Sephiroth was present too, though he had dropped his former disguise in favor of a new one. Now he was neither that handsome Mr. Frost nor the friendly Mr. Nurse, but a fat man, suffering from pattern baldness and a wheezing breath. That disguise, he decided, was safest. Ever since Dr. Godel let slip he didn't find Sephiroth too much of a threat, and thereafter all four of us were watched relentlessly.

I scanned the room. Everyone was restless, ready for someone to stand up and make a speech. Rain tumbled down outside, masking most of the small whispers of conversation. I finally saw someone else I recognized. He sat alone, nursing a cup of dubious coffee, while the entire bar shied away from his red-cloaked personage. Dangerous eyes looked out from his long black hair, both watching and threatening the unwary. I excused myself so I could go and talk to him.

"Vincent, I haven't seen you in ages."

"Nor I you." Vincent took a sip of coffee, then spit it out back into the cup, his grimace of disgust hidden by shadows.

"I hadn't expected you to come here, with what you said and all."

"That I would stand by you, though I utterly disagree? My decision hasn't changed."  
Sephiroth, still in his obese disguise, waddled up to us, wheezing, "Sorry. I overheard. Though I am curious. If you disagree. With the movement. Why. Are you here?"  
"I disagree with the man, not the idea. I have my own reasons for favoring man being the instrument of his own redemption."  
"Then what. Do you think. Of Sephiroth?"  
I tried to keep a straight face, knowing who was asking who. Vincent did not display a shred of recognition.   
"As a monster, he is loathsome. As a man, he goes beyond abhorrence."  
"I must say. That he has done things. That would make me agree. With you. Excuse me. I must go up. And speak."  
Sephiroth lumbered away as quickly as he came, laboring up the steps to a small stage. Singers and musicians had done their acts their once, but those days disappeared along with the war. The microphone stayed, ready to receive the words of its first speaker tonight. I held my breath. I had an inkling of what he would say, but no concrete evidence. The sheet of notes in his hand, cues for an inexperienced speaker, had been composed while I was still in the hospital.  
The people in the bar hushed, ready hear, though their chairs cried out in anguish. Vincent's chair creaked as he leaned back. Mine creaked as I leaned forward. Ishtar's pen was poised, ready to record anything of importance.  
"I expect you are here because. You side with Sephiroth." He began, quietly. Murmurs of assent swelled to a cheer and died down again, "And he is with you."

Vincent stood up suddenly, his hand ready on his gun. His chair clattered to the floor. When Sephiroth removed his disguise, the only sound was that of Vincent cocking his pistol.

"Vincent. Pleased to see you have not changed. But I came to say that I do not wish to see the cause supported in the open. I would rather have a living silent majority than a dead vocal minority. I know some of you may have already placed your lives for upholding your principles, are happy that for the first time in years you can fight for something other than survival, but my resolve stands. Vincent, put your gun down. If I wanted bloodshed I would have had it a thousand times over by now, but I am tired. I am tired of being a soldier, tired of being a monster, tired of being anything but human. If I ever had a choice, I never would have been anything but a normal person, but that was not in my hands to decide. So please, just let me choose now to not support any cause, not to cause any anger or bloodshed. Does anyone have any questions?"

The sense of excitement had dimmed to a sense of apprehension. Though I had known he had those sentiments for a long time, this was the first that others had heard it. Some shifted self-consciously in their seats. Vincent moved his sights off of Sephiroth, but remained wary.

"When did you decide this, then? That you wanted to stop slaughtering people? Was it when your dreams of conquest were crushed at the tip of Cloud's sword? Or when you realized that your mother wouldn't be there to serve you anymore?"

"They weren't my dreams; they were Mother's. I knew that the second had started to raze Nibleheim. I had feeling that something was amiss for weeks before that. It was tortuous; it still is, to know that I could not be able to act. That I was nothing more than a puppet and neither my words nor my actions were my own. In that one moment of weakness, Mother seized me and never let go… To that effect, I must guess that I should be grateful to Cloud. Though much of his battle, of your battle, in the Crater was nothing more than illusion, Jenova did die. And I was able to reclaim myself, with most of her power on me vanquished."

"Well, you are skilled with excuses, at least."

"At least I did not go avoidant and sleep away my problems."

"Think twice about talking back to me: I am old enough to be your father."

"And if you are?"

Age, it seemed, had nothing to do with maturity, but at least the only weapons now were words. Sephiroth stepped down from the stage, a look of ease across his face. By contrast, I could almost hear Vincent's cheek twitching in anger. I sighed deeply, feeling that a potential disaster had been avoided.

Mid sigh, the door tumbled down. The empty gap bristled with the ends of a dozen guns. Drops of coal-muddied rain pattered against the floor of the bar, quickly smeared into the floorboards by heavy boots. Leading the intruders was Cloud.


	9. Chapter 9

"I do not know now if you are more of a boor or a bore." Sephiroth shrugged, "But you are extremely persistent."

"Shut up. Don't you want to know how I found you?"

"Easily?" Sephiroth offered, though he seemed more annoyed than beaten.

"Damn straight. Do you know how easy it is to see two people who stay dry when it is raining out?"

"Easy enough for you to brag about it. Really, are you going to attempt to accomplish anything or not?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna kill you once and for all."

"Tell me when you finally figure out how to do that."

Sephiroth walked forward as if to leave the bar, but met only the tip of Cloud's sword. Both their eyes narrowed.

"Move." Sephiroth commanded.

"You'll die first."

Sephiroth placed one hand on the top of Cloud's sword and bent a full four inches of the point back on itself. I had never seen that happen, even when Cloud had missed a monster and hit only solid rock. I wanted to move, fearful that one of my love and my enemy would die. A strange feeling of inevitability held me back. I knew that no matter how many times anyone would step in, the battle would never stop until it had truly finished.

"I cannot begin to say how much you have tried my patience. Fine. I will accept your challenge. I only request that we fight outside of Midgar and we both fight unarmed by either blade or materia."

"Then let's go." Cloud said without a moment's thought. I wondered if he even remembered why his sword was ruined, though on Sephiroth's terms it mattered little.

Cloud and Sephiroth left the bar silently, Cloud forcing Sephiroth into the lead. Distrust wrinkled his face, though it might have been the first scratches of age on his forehead. Vincent, Cloud's retainers, the rest of the bar, and I followed suit. To my relief, heated chatter sprung up again. I was tired of silent apprehension. The dirty rain continued to pour outside, wetting everyone except Sephiroth and I. Nothing in me could find words to say, though I too wanted to speak. Instead, I relegated myself to watching the scarlet cloth of Vincent's cloak turn to maroon with each tiny drop.

We paraded through the streets, the ranks swelling with each house we passed. Some mothers ushered their children and even their husbands out of the strange crowd, but many more managed to sneak in once their backs were turned. Other women marched alongside us with as much verve as the most bloodthirsty man. It was all bloodlust. Bloodlust and fear, whether one supported Cloud and Sephiroth.

Tauntingly, the rain let up as soon as we passed outside the borders of town. The sky refused to clear entirely, but the air was easier to breathe. Restless, I looked behind me. Midgar fumed behind us all, pouring out black smoke and yellow smog. We had removed the steel plate from above our heads and saw blue skies for the first time, only to replace it with a plate of soot. Progress. I wondered if, perhaps, there was truly such a thing.

On my first escape from Midgar, I had seen robust grasses and flowers growing. They had all gone now. The acid falling from the clouds had destroyed them. A passage from an old textbook came flying through my mind. I knew it was outmoded, even when I was a little girl. A small town like Nibelheim could never have been able to muster a decent school. It had neither money nor students. The passage, though, mentioned how Mako reactors would be the way of the future. It would be cheaper. Safer. Clean. It would replace living in the dark for the towns. It would replace living in dust for the cities. It worked. Though we sucked life out of the Planet, it worked. Twenty years later, our "progress" was nothing more than a step back.

Two pairs of boot stopped, grinding themselves into the dust outside of Midgar. Scores of people circled around Cloud and Sephiroth, and Vincent and I were among the lucky ones able to push our way to the front. I heard the sound of metal clicking against metal as his brass hand flickered on and off one of his pistols. My own hands found themselves kneading the bottom of my skirt out of nervousness.

"I can't see, mama! Why are all the tall people in front?" A little boy behind me cried.

"Shh. Go home." Vincent hissed. Nothing was happening yet, but he still looked back to the two fighters in front of him as quickly as possible.

The child jumped back, intimidated, but was caught by his mother.

"Don't annoy the creepy man, Keese." The mother admonished.

I rolled my eyes. She was just barely in her early twenties, and chewed her gum like a piece of cud. As she moved her mouth mechanically, I could see several grayed teeth. And yet, for all of that, I felt slightly jealous.

"Are there any terms you would like to set before we begin, Cloud?" Sephiroth said

"You won't be alive to follow through with them. Does 'go to hell' work for you?"

"Passably. And if I win, I want you to carry on as if I never existed. Stay out of my life and my descendents' forever."

The last phrase surprised me. "Descendents" never seemed like it would be an option for him, and was not any more for me. The subject had never come up across the years, and I had honestly always thought of Sephiroth having children as nothing more than a pipe dream. Yet, from his words, I could see that he considered the prospect as very real.

"Then let's go!"

Cloud faced the real Sephiroth at last. It would be the true final battle.


	10. Chapter 10

Sephiroth allowed Cloud to attack first. The younger man charged forward as he always did, though this time he had no sword in hand. That ruined piece of metal leaned against two young men, presumably Cloud's new lieutenants. One was hardly past being a teenager, and I saw his face grimace as Sephiroth easily sidestepped Cloud's attack.

"Come on." Sephiroth taunted, "Basic training surely taught you better than that, even if you never were in SOLDIER. You fought better as a child."

"Shut up and fight!"

"I am fighting." Sephiroth bent back to dodge a punch, adding, "I am wearing you down without even lifting a finger. I must say I do not know boxing well, but what will that be? A TKO?"

Sephiroth jumped back, to nearly the other side of the small arena. Onlookers moved back, ready to protect themselves from harm. Cloud ran forward again, but ended up looping around Sephiroth as the latter made a series of careful steps. The failed tackle turned into an off-target uppercut, and then into a kick that bit only air. Not once did Sephiroth's hands leave his pockets. I grimaced along with every Guardian in the audience. The fight was embarrassing, intriguing only in the so-bad-it's-good way. If only Cloud had his sword, the match might be slightly even…

No. It was more natural, safer as it was now. Cloud was certainly past his limit, and if he was able to use Omnislash, he would likely hit a bystander by accident. Sephiroth's Masamune was nothing more than shattered steel. If it were to be a duel of swords, he would need a replacement, and any that he could find would most certainly break like a dry twig. I didn't know if safety was the reason Sephiroth chose to have no weapons. He was a good man, but not that generous. In all likelihood, he sought his own advantage and Cloud's embarrassment.

"Psst. Tifa. What is a 'TKO?'" Vincent asked.

"It's a 'technical knockout.' A KO is when you make your opponent unconscious. A TKO means that the opponent is too injured to continue."

"Then we may have to settle in for a long fight."

It took Vincent's words for me to see what he saw. The fight would not be about strength or speed, but of endurance. Sephiroth would evade and harry Cloud until Cloud collapsed. If Cloud died of exhaustion, it would be of his own foolishness. Only if the plan failed would Sephiroth put up a true fight.

Ten minutes later, Cloud had fruitlessly looped around Sephiroth again. By now, Cloud's breathing was labored. He had scarcely stopped for any reason than to turn around. Sephiroth, by contrast, appeared at ease. He appeared more like he had come back from a brisk walk than a battle against his nemesis. In those ten minutes, however, tactics had subtly shifted. Cloud's outbursts of brute force gave way to attempted grapples, and Sephiroth had started to mix in a few low kicks of his own.

Suddenly, Sephiroth hit Cloud in the stomach, sending the blond soldier down.

"Never mind. This draws on to long. You are stubborn as an ox, Cloud. That deserves some reward. You want a fight, and I shall fight you. My gift from me to you. Perhaps I shall cut off your ears when I finish, as a gift from you to me. You will be to far gone to return my favors."

Sephiroth blanched, biting his lip as he allowed Cloud to rise again. Something he had wanted to suppress had escaped, and he fought to chain it back in. His face still white, Sephiroth staggered backwards, his brow furrowing. A small trickle of blood beaded at his lips. Cloud took the time to steal across the arena and grab his ruined sword from his lieutenants. Both seemed grateful for the release, and their eyes lit in anticipation of change. My feelings could never match theirs. A knotted snake of apprehension rose in my throat, its fangs dripping broken honor. This was supposed to be a fight with fists alone.

Sephiroth regained his composure the instant Cloud's twisted sword reached into the sky for a blow. I saw his throat flash ivory in the washed-out sun as Sephiroth swallowed, just before he hopped out of reach.

"Mama! My ball!" The boy, Keese, cried from behind me. I saw a small globe soar over my head and land in the dust of the makeshift arena.

"Get it later." His mother replied

"I! Want! It! Now!!!" Keese bawled.

The sounds of a boy struggling against his mother's grasp ensued. I heard the sound of two little feet hitting the ground and pattering after his lost toy. Before I had even taken another breath of dismay, he had laid his hands on his prize. Unfortunately, his prize lay right between Cloud and Sephiroth. Disgust marred Sephiroth's eyes as he rushed to push the child out of the way.

"Get!" he snarled. Though he managed to roughly push Keese out of the way, it came at the price of leaving his back open to Cloud's sword.

Sephiroth merely grunted when the mangled tip of Cloud's sword dug into his back. A layer of flesh hid where the blade still remained keen.

"Ha ha ha…" Sephiroth coughed. "You must want to die badly."

His eyes flashed, and the air filled with the unmistakable, deathly air of illusion.


	11. Chapter 11

I had seen this illusion before, and had never hoped to see it again. It was so powerful I could feel it in my soul, and I knew that, though everyone had seemingly disappeared from view, they saw every false image as clearly as I did.

The field and faded to the void of space, and the people and swirling dust around me were replaced by stars. I felt the coldness of space pierce my shirt, though my mind knew that I was still standing outside on a warm day. My heart beat rapidly, just knowing what would come next. I was too well braced and experienced to panic when I saw the white streak of a meteor flying through the blackness. My soul quaked but my knees did not buckle when I saw that same meteor plow through a planet and reduce it to scattered gas.

Suddenly, I noticed that the meteor was slowing. This was not part of the illusion. The blinding, white-hot streak should have only sped up as it crashed through the remaining planets and finally, the sun itself.

Hope led me to breathe, "He's fighting back." The Jenova within him had past her limit, but Sephiroth had not, and was fighting to stop the release of Supernova's power. I wished that I was not consumed by the illusion, that I could be by his side and support him.

The illusory images of Supernova vanished with a shudder. In the space of the seconds that it had lasted, however, Sephiroth's hair had turned from silver to white, and his face was haunted with disgust mingled with determination. The ground beneath him was the color of carbuncle. Cloud appeared stunned at first, but recovered from the illusion with reborn fury. I watched as he picked up his battered, broken, bloody sword and commenced with almost mechanical repetition of the same thing he had done to his enemy so many times.

The crowd, no matter who they sided with, turned white with the first strike, green with the second, and froze with the third. Horror froze them in place, soundless. Which of them would have expected that what they wanted to see was so terrible? None- they were just people, most of whom never saw anything more than a paper cut, let alone one man turn another into ribbons. And Sephiroth, the only one of the two I knew I could love, not would, but could, took every blow without a yell, though tears flowed freely. His shirt fell in tatters along with his skin.

Cloud jumped upwards, weak light beaming from the top of the mangled sword. He was weaker now, but his strength was still superhuman. A few years ago the light would have been as a second moon. Like everyone else watching, I felt the crushing doom in spite of the light, and I wanted to run. But I wanted to run forward, not away.

Tap.

Tap. Tap.

Several more taps came in increasing speed. A silly thing to notice at this time, but the rain had begun again. I was still dry, lost in a split second that took an eternity.

Bang.

I ran forward as Cloud fell back. An arc of blood sprayed from his right shoulder, its droplets mingling with the raindrops as they landed next to the dropped Buster sword.

"Sephiroth…" I held him up as best I could. Sephiroth's back was like a mutilated cut of steak from a butcher. Warmth pulsed against my chest, but it was his blood. I felt nothing but coldness in my veins. "Cure!" I whispered hoarsely, calling on magic from the one materia I had bothered to bring. Nothing came forth.

"It will not work Tifa. We are beyond the Planet and all it's wisdom." He spoke fluidly, but the effort needed to do so caused his voice to tremble. "I had thought, I had thought I had known what forgiveness was. What merited forgiveness. I had thought that there would be no way I could earn it if I did not change. I read once that you do not get cleaner by wallowing in your own filth. I believed that."

"But it's true…"

"Is it? I damned us both. I am dead, and you are heartbroken. The rain still fails to fall on our heads. I was ignorant." Blood welled up from his mouth, "If I were arrogant as well, I would die claiming that it is because we are far above anyone else, but no. I have no arrogance left, not even enough to claim a lie."

"I… I'll die with you." I said, "There's nothing left. I can't love anyone else, having known what it is to love you. I can't love this Planet, knowing it will always be empty for me."

"Do not cheapen yourself." It was Vincent who replied. His gun was still smoking.

"I thought you would never be alright with us."

"I said, 'I will be there, though I cannot approve.' I still do not approve, but I am here. For you, not for him."

"If only you were my father." Sephiroth lamented. He closed his eyes, "I agree with Vincent, but you are still your own woman."

I hesitated, thinking through their advice. How could I cheapen myself? I was worthless to the crowd, priceless to my friends. I grabbed a bayonet out of Vincent's its place in Vincent's shoe. He had always had it as a back up, but never needed it. Repositioning myself behind Sephiroth, so I could hug him from behind, I gave him one last kiss.

"I never want to be apart from you." I whispered, and then plunged the bayonet through both of our hearts.

The Lifestream that left our bodies was not the red that marked an enemy of the Planet. Nor was it the green that rightfully circulated through below the Planet's crust. It was a white purer than snow, and as it left, it ascended skywards.

Author's note: Thanks to everyone who waited! That took waaay too long to finish, but I'm glad now that I didn't force the ending. I still abhor closing stories with a suicide (Vincent is voicing my opinion at the end). If I was a bit too ambiguous: They were forgiven long ago by the Planet, but they didn't realize it. No rain fell on their heads because they didn't need to be cleansed. It's a complete 180 from what I originally thought of, but I realized that if I kept as I started, then I would go against what I wanted to say at the end.


End file.
